Snape's 11
by persnicketyfics
Summary: Yes, this fic is exactly what you think it is. Spoof fic with the Hogwarts crew as members of Snape's 11. Strange doings are afoot in a Swiss bank and Snape's crew is going to set things right...as long as they get something out of it. AU. Totally goofy. Eventual relationship between SS/HG, but it'll take awhile. Original idea generated in collaboration with darkrivertempest.
1. Out of the Frying Pan

"Snape, Severus!" a gruff voice called down the echoing corridors. Severus waited for the dull clank that signaled the magical release of the lock on his cell and stepped into the dim light of Azkaban's Cellblock E for non-violent offenders.

He waited as patiently as he could with only a slight sneer on his face as they prodded him through processing, gave a full account of his effects, and shepherded him toward the floo that would lead him to the prisoner release office at the Ministry of Magic. He took a moment to shake hands with the lead guard—a decently congenial bloke, for all that he ran a tight ship—and left without further ado.

Severus emerged into the release office with little more than some his trademark sneer, newspaper clippings, his wand, and an engagement ring in desperate need of cleaning in his dress robe pocket.

His first stop was to Gringotts so that he could withdraw funds from his recently liberated accounts. The next stop was to his cottage to exchange his dress robes for Muggle jeans and a jumper. A grimy layer of of dust lay over all of his furniture. Well, the furniture that hadn't been overturned and disemboweled during the Ministry's search of his home two years prior. "Couldn't they have at least _repaired_ the furniture after their search?" he muttered with a sigh, flicking his wand around the room and restoring it to its former glory as a worn, but comfortable home.

He checked his dresser drawers, unsurprised but still disappointed to find only his clothes in residence. So she'd really gone, then.

A quick trip to the medicine cabinet revealed that his potions were still untouched. He uncorked a vial of cough relief and dumped it into the bath, watching the liquid drain away and leave four shrunken Occamy eggs at the bottom of the clawfoot tub.

He'd have to find a safe way to dispose of those. Two years of his life was more than enough for that particular folly, thank you very much. He didn't particularly feel like returning to the dank cell that had been his home since his initial inspiration to try the prohibited ingredient in place of Doxy eggs had struck.

He sighed, feeling more than a bit like an idiot. He knew better than most that the Wizengamot cared more about the letter of the law than about altruistic intent or scientific advancement.

Dunderheads.

He picked up the worn and folded clipping from The Daily Prophet and glanced at the headline once again.

 **Mystery Investor Saves Tempest Entertainment:** ** _World of Witchcraft_** **Head Designer Breathes New Life Into Struggling Company**

He traced his finger over the photograph of a smiling Hermione Granger before tearing it from the article, snatching his wand and apparating to Knockturn Alley.

* * *

The building was surprisingly well-lit for what was essentially a bookmaker's salon. Knockturn had cleaned up since the war, so bookie's sat on the right side of the law these days, if only by a hair. Severus made his way toward a desk in the back corner, where a young man was scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment.

"Mr. Thomas," he said, taking a seat on the opposite side of the desk.

Dean glanced up at the sound of that familiar voice. "Professor! You're out."

"Just this morning. I came to see you first."

The former student ran his fingers over his quill nervously as he regarded his former Potions professor. "I don't do that anymore. I cleaned up, got a straight gig as you can see here," he said, gesturing to the other desks in the room, each occupied by an arithmancer working the variables on every possible betting event in the wizarding world imaginable. "Whatever you're thinking, I can't do it."

"Are you sure about that?" Severus asked, sliding the news clipping across the table for Dean to look at.

"I'm familiar with the company," Dean said with a little smile. "We run odds on the battleground events. Good odds on the Muggle servers this week."

"What if I told you Tempest was owned by a former associate of Tom Riddle? And that his new investor wasn't an investor at all. What would you say to that?" He quirked an eyebrow and waited for Dean's response.

"Not this bollocks again. Seriously, how many Dark fucking Lords do we have to purge before we're allowed some semblance of peace?" the arithmancer groaned.

The elder man steepled his fingers and leaned back in his chair. "As many as it takes, Mr. Thomas."

"Shit. You've got a plan already?"

Severus merely gave Dean a grim smile.

* * *

"Professor Snape."

"You used to call me Severus, Potter. I haven't been your Professor in a decade."

Harry tilted his head to regard the dark man in front of him. "You used to date my best friend. Now you don't because you're a criminal. Mr. Snape, then."

"As you like," Severus said, inclining his head. "I was told to check in within twenty-four hours."

"Yes." Harry withdrew a Ministry form and started to tick off boxes. "Have you been drinking?"

He sneered. "No."

"Do you have a place to stay and a means to support yourself?"

"Yes to both."

"Very well. Stay out of trouble. The terms of your parole prevent you from leaving the country for the next year. I expect to hear from you in a week."

Severus gave the younger man a very slight smile. "Understood."

* * *

Malfoy Manor looked less foreboding than it had when he'd last been here. Probably something to do with the fact that it no longer housed a crazed megalomaniac bent on destroying the Wizarding world from within.

Severus was pleased to see the gates swing open to admit him and strode purposefully toward the front door, allowing the elf who tended it to take his cloak and scamper off to find Lucius. Without waiting for the Wonky's return, Severus strode toward his old friend's office.

He found four wix gathered there - Alcyone Greengrass, Theo Nott Jr., Blaise Zabini, and Peregrine Derrick. Nott spotted him first, stuttering, "Professor Snape! What brings you here?"

"Just visiting an old friend," he said cautiously. _Just what con is Lucy running this time_?

Zabini nodded his head politely. "Here for investment advice as well?"

Severus sneered. "Something like that."

"And what have you been up to these past few years, Professor?" asked Alcyone. "I haven't heard anything of you since before my Astoria left school."

"I was just released from prison, Madame Greengrass," Severus answered politely. "A trifling misunderstanding over some potions ingredients." He smirked inwardly as he watched the witch stiffen and look away.

"Here we are, my friends!" Lucius said from the doorway, pausing only slightly when he spotted Severus sitting with the gathered group. He cleared his throat and distributed papers—not parchment, Severus noted—to each of the four wix. "Remember, Muggle money and make sure your portkey isn't registered with the Ministry. Off you go then, and don't forget to give your galleons to Wonky on your way out."

Severus reclined against the back of the (dreadfully uncomfortable and over-upholstered settee) and gazed at Lucius. "Still running the tax evasion investment scheme?"

Lucius smirked. "You've seen the post-war reparation taxes. The only way to preserve our estates is to avoid them. At least, in part."

"And how much are you charging for your valuable advice on Swiss banking these days, Lucy?"

"One hundred galleons a pop. No one has been caught at it yet, but it's only a matter of time, really." He shrugged. What happened after his clients paid their advising fee wasn't really his problem. "Why have you come, old friend? I thought you were busy cleaning toilets at Azkaban."

"Just got out. Thought I'd come see you first."

Lucius rolled his eyes, used to the game. "Uh huh. So what's the job?"

"Have you actually ever visited Zurich, Lucius?"

The blonde laughed derisively. "You want to break into a bank? What's the payout on that?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Then piss off, Severus."

"Well, nothing monetary. But it may well be worth quite a bit more to you in Ministry goodwill."

There was a pause. "I'm listening."

Severus withdrew the news clipping once again and tossed it on the desk. "I'll give you three guesses as to who is behind this."

"Well my first guess would be Albus Dumbledore, but he's out of the crime-fight game post VWII."

"Hm. Put a pin in that and we'll return to it. No, the issue this time is Tempest."

Lucius' brow furrowed. "Tempest? They're Icelandic, yes?"

"Mmm hmm."

"Fuck. You're talking about Bjӧrn. Gods damn it, Severus."

Severus clapped slowly. "Got it in one. I've figured out who the new investor is, too. Except it's not an investor at all. His funds and the requisite magic to make the game work for Muggles, and thus assure its initial commercial success, came directly from the Swiss account of someone I know quite well. But the magic is fading; they need something newer. More powerful..."

"And therefore more dangerous. Where'd you get this from? Albus?"

"Albus. He wrote me when I was in Azkaban. And from what he's told me, I have the distinct feeling that I know what the next target will be." Severus took a breath, waiting for the killshot. "If we stop him, our names will be golden at the Ministry. In every Wizarding Government in Europe, I imagine. How'd you like to get out of those reparation taxes you've been paying?"

Cool grey eyes met coal black ones. "When do we start?"

* * *

"So you want to break into a Swiss bank, steal something, and then leave again. Without being caught by their technology—"

"And without being cursed by what's in that vault."

Lucius sat back in his chair, sipping at the lapsang souchong in delicate porcelain that his elf had delivered minutes before. "Whose vault are we breaking into, exactly? Don't tell me Snake-face has an abandoned account there or something."

"Close, but your suspected dark lordling has a few decades on Volde - Snake-face. No, we're breaking into the vault of the infamous brother-squib.

Lucius frowned. "Not-"

"Yes. Gunter Grindelwald's."


	2. The List

"Are you insane? Severus, I told you about the Tempest business as a matter of interest, not as temptation to throw yourself into the fray of their dealings!"

Lucius snorted at the Headmaster's protest, apparently deciding it was a feeble mea culpa at best.

"You can't break into Credit Suisse, take something out of a vault secured by Muggle and Magical means, and not expect reprisals from either the bank or the magical authorities!" Albus reasoned. "Severus, you've only just gotten out of Azkaban. Surely you don't want to go back?"

"Don't be stupid, Albus," Severus sneered. "Of course I have no desire to return to Azkaban. But if my plan works, that won't be a factor."

"That's an awfully big chance to take, my boy."

Severus merely shrugged.

"You do know what will happen if you are caught, don't you? The Muggles don't turn criminals over to the Magical authorities immediately. And they'll kill you. Then they'll go to work on you. I won't be party to that, Severus."

"Just as you weren't party to my physical and mental distress during the wars, Albus?"

"That was different."

"Severus, Albus is right. Our goals were too lofty. We're sorry to have taken up so much of your time, Headmaster. Thank you for the tea." He snagged a cauldron cake and took a healthy bite. Sweets seemed to be the best method of coping with the post-war world he now lived in, and these had the pink frosting on top. He loved pink frosting.

"Of course, Lucius, of course. Please don't think I'm unsympathetic to your plight; I'll always owe you for the thing in the time at the place," Albus said hastily.

"That was our pleasure, Headmaster," Severus replied.

Lucius nodded. "I'd never been to Belize."

"And expect my elf, Severus! There are some items from your old quarters that I'd like to send you." The two younger wizards rose to leave. "Er - whose vault were you breaking into anyway?"

Severus shot a look at Lucius. "Gunter Grindelwald's."

" _Gunter Grindelwald_? You're going after the sister wand, then."

Lucius nodded.

"You're crazy, both of you. Completely crazy! You'll be killed!"

"Which is why we're planning to be very methodical. Very thorough," Severus said reassuringly.

Lucius smirked. "And well funded."

Albus regarded them seriously. "And you'll need a team as insane as you are." He paused, then leaned over the desk. "Who do you have in mind?"

* * *

"If we're going to pull this off, we're going to need a Gilderoy, at least two Maximes, and the biggest Celestina Warbeck _ever_."

"Well, Dean's in. Who else is available?"

Lucius sat back and sipped his coffee. "Well, the Weasley twins are an obvious choice for their ingenuity. They seem to have inherited Arthur's fascination with Muggle invention."

Severus frowned. "Hm. Aren't they busy with their shop?"

"Pfff. It practically runs itself these days. They're holed up in their lab most of the time and I get the impression that they're looking for things to occupy their time."

"Meaning?"

"Let's just say they've just relocated to their fourth laboratory premises in as many years. THey had to buy the building this time because no one will rent to them."

Severus' frown turned into a smirk. "What's their incentive?"

"Tariff reduction. They've gone international."

"Got it," Severus said, marking it down in his spidery scrawl. "What about Pieris Parkinson?"

"Dead."

Severus was surprised. "Really? On the job?"

"Dragon Pox."

"You send flowers?"

Lucius snorted. "Like that family needs flowers. Poinsettia and I did pollinate the garden for awhile, though."

"You're all heart. What about Seamus Finnigan, then? I seem to recall he had a particular affinity for pyrotechnics."

Lucius scraped an elegant nail across his chin. " There may be a slight issue with availability there."

* * *

"Right, lads! Hold onto your knickers!" Without warning, Seamus flicked his wand toward the pile of enchanted Muggle fireworks - the industrial sort - to trigger the display to his investors.

The resulting explosion was...memorable. Which was the problem, really. It took the Obliviator approximately four minutes to arrive on the scene of the cratered, former playground and assess the three unconscious Muggles and thoroughly bleary-eyed Finnigan.

"Mr. Finnigan. We meet again," intoned the head Obliviator. "We've addressed the statute of secrecy before, have we not?"

"Oh, hell," the man in question muttered.

"Mm. Indeed. If you will please relinquish your wand?" She waited as Seamus did so, then turned toward the Muggle tagalongs. "Gentlemen, if I might have your attention?" She waved her hand and cast a nonverbal confundus charm before relieving the three men of their memories of Seamus, magic, and a strange man who offered to partner them in their experiments on the exploding entertainment devices.

"Excellent. On your way, gentlemen." She watched as the the men toddled off toward the road before turning back to Seamus. "Now then, Mr. Finnigan. Are these fireworks safe to disarm, or have you altered them in some way?"

"Are you accusing me of booby trapping?" Seamus asked incredulously.

A pop sounded behind the two wix, quickly followed by a bored voice. "Booby trapping isn't Mrs. Finnigan's style, is it? Boomer."

"Boomer? Who the fuck is Boomer?"

"No idea what you're talking about," Lucius responded. "Obliviator...Lopez, isn't it?"

"Yes. What are you doing here Mr. Malfoy?"

"Griggs was looking for you."

"Who?"

"Griggs. He needs to talk to - oh, fuck it. Look here, Obliviator Lopez." Without pausing, Lucius pulled his wand and confunded the poor obliviator before relieving her of _her_ memories.

"Come with me, Mr. Finnigan."

"What did you - you just - right then."

"Eloquent, as always." Lucius strode away from the alley and down the street, not looking to see if Seamus followed.

"Severus here?"

" 'Round the corner."

Seamus grinned. "It'll be good to be working with proper wizards again."

* * *

"So what're we here to see?"

"The Delacours," Lucius replied, shoving a handful of popcorn in his gob and smacking away on the Muggle treat.

"What?" Severus shot him a puzzled look. "Since when do the Delacours perform?"

"You didn't know? François' mother was a Gravelet."

"A who? Dammit, Lucius, make some sense."

"A Gravelet. Jean Gravelet. His stage name was Charles Blondin."

Severus looked at Lucius, waiting for him to explain further.

"Blondin was a famous fonambulist a little more than a century ago. His daughter, Francis carried on the tradition. So did François, and he taught both Fleur and Gabrielle. They only perform for two weeks each summer."

Severus looked around the tent. "She's a liability, though. Veela blood, Lucius? Bad enough we have you on the team, much less a female Veela. Even a quarter blood. Who else is on the list?"

Lucius continued to watch the stage and munch his popcorn. "She is the list." They watched in fascination as Fleur landed a series of aerial backflips on a tightrope, then jumped to balance on the top of a pole. One one foot.

"Shite. We've got a grease man."

"Woman."

Severus snorted and stole some popcorn. "Shut it."

* * *

"We need Minerva."

Lucius sent Severus a sidelong look. "She won't do it. She retired three years ago."

"She get a wizard?"

"No." Lucius paused. "She found a good witch, though. Retired to the highlands. They have alpacas. Or was it sheep?"

"Alpacas?" Severus raised his eyes heavenward before slanting Lucius a look. "You could ask her."

He gave a resigned sigh. "I could ask."

* * *

Lucius walked up behind Minerva as she sat on a bench, looking at her flock.

"I saw you, Mr. Malfoy. I saw you when you disillusioned yourself amongst my sheep an hour ago. I saw you creeping behind that copse of trees on the far hill. I saw you before you got up this morning." Her voice was dryer than an aged firewhiskey.

So those _were_ sheep. "Min."

"Lucius."

"What's with the orange?"

"My dear mediwitch tells me I need more vitamins," she said, continuing to placidly peel her orange and stare into the difference.

"Why not take a nutrient solution?"

"Now you just sound like Poppy. Be careful there. She's a jealous witch, Lucius."

He sat down on the bench next to her, stretching his long legs out in front of him, saying nothing.

"Are you going to explain your presence, Lucius? Or should I just say no and get it over with?"

"You're the best there is, Min. We need you."

"We?"

"Severus."

"Ah. You told him I retired?"

"Yes." He paused. "He said it was a shame."

"He didn't, but I appreciate the attempt at flattery." She sighed. "Truth be told, Poppy has been a bit overbearing of late. I could use a short time away."

Lucius allowed one corner of his mouth to curl up. The corner Minerva couldn't see, naturally.

"That your hound way in the back there?" he asked, gesturing toward the behemoth sheep dog on the far end of the field.

"Yes. A gift from Hagrid. Why?"

"Just wondering why it had three heads."

"New crossbreed." She watched the dog attempt to herd the sheep away from the fence and get tangled in its own multiple necks. "Dumb as a brick, though."

"Hardly surprising, that."

"So are you going to tell me the job, Malfoy? I don't have all morning."

Lucius rolled his eyes. "You're retired, Min. You have all damned day." However he relented and leaned in, whispering a few choice words into her ear.

Her eyes widened. "Give me an hour to pack and explain to Poppy. Meet at the usual place?"

"Of course." Lucius rose with a smile, dusted the wrinkles out of his slacks, and walked away before allowing himself to grin.

* * *

"And Min makes ten." Severus sipped his cognac.

"Ten? I count nine."

"You're forgetting Hagrid."

"Hagrid? Why are we - oh. Good point. So Min makes ten." Lucius scrubbed at his eyes and leaned his head against the back of his chair. The fire crackled merrily in the Malfoy library hearth.

"We could use one more. You think we need one more?" He looked over just as Lucius emitted a soft snore. "Okay, we'll get one more."

* * *

Bill picked up his wand from the Gringotts lock-box before exiting the lower vaults of the bank. "G'night, Griphook," he called on his way out of the secure area. The goblin grunted in reply.

Feeling something odd, Bill looked down. There was a small note affixed to his wand. It read _Severus Snape_ in fine calligraphy. On the back, _Leaky Cauldron - Room 301"_ was written in Snape's distinctive scrawl.

Looking around him curiously, Bill left the bank and made his way to the Leaky, slipping upstairs before anyone recognized his distinctive red hair and mistook him for one of his brothers.

Bill preferred a low profile these days.

The door was unlocked and Severus was already seated at the small table next to the window, a pint of ale in front of each seat.

"Bill."

"Severus," the younger wizard nodded. "What's all this then?"

"I have a job for you. You came highly recommended."

The redhead wrinkled his nose. "Let me guess. Dad?"

"Yes. But I still trust his word. We need a curse breaker, Bill, and you're the best in the business." He slid a piece of paper across the table. "You're either in or you're out, right now." He glanced out the window at a clatter on the street. When he looked back, Bill was holding the paper.

"A Muggle plane?" he asked curiously.

"We're staying under the radar on this one."

"Zürich?"

Severus shrugged. "America's playground."

"What? No it isn't." Bill regarded Severus curiously.

"Yeah. I don't know why I said that."


	3. The Plan

They arrived together. At precisely half past seven, the Weasley twins, Minerva, Bill, Fleur, and Seamus knocked on the door to Albus Dumbledore's cottage in the Cotswolds. It was opened by a wizened, if notably grumpy, haltija who merely took in the scene before him and raised an eyebrow. "What, did you get a group portkey or something?"

"Now then, Jesper, don't keep them on the stoop!" Dumbledore reprimanded the creature from just inside the door. "Come in, come in. We've a small repast in the garden. Please, make yourselves at home."

The twins made for the buffet table without being invited again and proceeded to pile the plates high with prawns and olives and cheese. Halfway through an enormous prawn, Fred turned toward Minerva. "Haven't seen you in awhile, Min."

She smiled at him tightly before slipping an orange into her robe pocket. "Hm. Yes, Mr. Weasley. How is your family?"

"Oh, you know. Trucking along. We'd love to have you out to the Burrow sometime. Mum says she hasn't seen you in for donkey's years. You should come out more often, you know."

"I don't get out as often as I used to, Frederick. My sheep require a great deal of attention." With a little nod, she moved off toward Fleur to renew their acquaintance. Bill merely stared at the girl from across the garden as though he'd never seen a woman before.

As everyone polished off their nibbles, Severus breezed into the room with Lucius and Dumbledore on his heels. "Ladies and Gentlemen - welcome. Everybody eaten? Good. Everybody sober?" He shrugged. "Close enough. Most of you know each other already, so I won't bother with the introductions. Before we start, no one here is committed yet. What I'm about to propose happens to be highly dangerous and has little to no immediate payout. If that's not your particular brand of firewhiskey, help yourself to the buffet and apply to the Headmaster here for a quick obliviate. No hard feelings." He glanced around the garden and met the eyes of every member of his crew. "Otherwise, come inside with me."

Without further ado, Severus and Lucius swept back through the cottage door, quickly followed by determined looking members of their group. Only Bill stayed behind, staring contemplatively into a short glass of firewhiskey.

"Mr. Weasley." Bill looked up to see Dumbledore twinkling down at him.

"Ah. Headmaster. Good to see you, sir."

"You had a good trip here?"

Bill nodded. "I did. It was short, at least."

"Excellent. How is life as a Gringott's curse breaker? You like it?"

The younger man nodded again. "Yeah."

"That's wonderful. Get in the Merlin-damned cottage."

* * *

Severus stood in front of the room with a model of Zürich's Credit Suisse in front of him. "Friends, this is Credit Suisse." He gestured toward the transfigured woodblock with his wand and watched as it fragmented and split into models of the lobby, the elevators, and the vaults. "As you well know, this bank is the resting place of countless millions of galleons worth of art, artifacts, and...well, galleons." He waited a beat. "We're going to rob it."

The room seemed to collectively hold its breath. Except for Bill who bobbed his head. "Smash and grab job, yeah?"

Lucius sneered and the redhead. "It's a little more complicated than that." He gestured toward the separated model pieces and wandlessly enlarged them so that the entire room could see.

Severus pressed on. "This is the layout of the bank, courtesy of Dean Thomas, newly appointed junior arithmancer in their wizarding stockfirm."

Dean nodded his head deferentially and remained silent.

"Bad news first. Credit Suisse houses both Muggle and Magical security systems. We're going to have to get past both of them in order to get into the lower echelons, which is where Gunter Grindelwald - yes, brother to _that_ Grindelwald - keeps personal vault."

Lucius gestured toward the model. "Vault section XXIV is here, beneath Sub-level B and down causeway C, past the backup boiler house."

Severus frowned and continued. "Now we know it's take more than a smile and confundus to get past the guards. Once in the right section, we still have to get through the passkey locked Muggle security, which has a code that is changed every twelve hours, down the dumbwaiter used to escort objects between floors, and through the voice identification system - "

"- which we can't fake -" Lucius interjected.

"- and then past the identity wards to the high-security section of the vault house -"

"- which we can't break." Lucius finished.

With a huff at the interruption. "Once we're in the secure vault section, it's a breeze. Just a guard Leshy and several Jötunn with very large clubs. Then we just have to break through the vault door, grab the Sister Wand, and make it out alive. Any questions?"

The group watched him in silence before Fleur slowly raised her hand. "Quelle est la baguette sœur?"

Lucius nodded to the woman respectfully. "The sister wand is literally that. It is the twin wand of the Elder wand."

It was Dumbledore who picked up the story from here. "Legend states that the wand was made for the younger sister of the Peverell brothers. It is constructed of wood and a core from the same sources as the Elder wand, but imbued with a more feminine power. It can be wielded only by the sister of the master of the Elder wand and is a potentially dangerous magical object. A few months ago, I received word that an Icelandic digertall game company -"

"Digital," Severus corrected.

"Yes. Digital game company had created a MMOR something something game. It's popular with both Muggles and Wix. Muggles create magical characters that run around the space and kill various creatures with magical staves and wands. Wizards interact with them and lead them on silly quests through dangerous places. I don't quite understand the appeal…"

"Not that it matters," Severus interrupted. "The spells that allow for Wix and Muggles to interact in the online world are breaking down and need to be shored up. However, the original game creator isn't talented or powerful enough to do so. He has recently hired a new creative head who is both talented and powerful. And as the descendant of Gunter Grindelwald, he can remove the wand from the family vault."

Lucius continued. "He plans to use her to shore up his game and to - if Dumbledore's sources it to be believed - set himself up as a sort of dark overlord of the game space. From there he will be able to use his Muggle digital army to infiltrate nearly any interweb -"

"Net," muttered Severus

" - Internet site in existence. He'll have complete access to the financial, commercial, and governmental worlds."

"That's...bonkers!" exclaimed Fred. Or possibly George.

"It is. The Sister Wand will help him achieve his aims. He and his team will be in Zürich in three weeks time for the International Gaming Expo. That is when he will take the wand out of the vault."

Bill raised his hand. "I'm confused. You said the Sister Wand could only be wielded by the sister of the Elder Wand's master. Harry Potter controls the Elder Wand, and he's an only child."

Fleur blew out an amused breath. "Est-il vraiment si dense?" she queried. Bill glanced at her in confusion.

"Can you think of no one whom Harry Potter might consider a sister? No one who has a good working knowledge of both the Magical and Muggle worlds? No one who just took on as the new creative director of Tempest Entertainment under the direct supervision of Bjӧrn Lardrassin himself?"

"Fuck me."

"Wait for it, it gets worse," Lucius muttered.

Severus sighed and made a helpless movement with his shoulders. "Indeed. Not only do we need to steal the Sister Wand. We need to convince Hermione Granger to help us bring down her employer."

* * *

Lucius sipped his firewhiskey. "That went well I think."

"Hn."

"They're all in. That's something, then."

Severus shrugged.

"You might have rushed it a bit there in the middle. It felt rushed."

Lucius merely sipped again as Severus thunked his head on the table.

* * *

The next two weeks were a whirlwind of preparations. Fred and George had the most to do - they left the next morning for Zürich and worked to immerse themselves into the bank's routines. They were there as businessmen applying for a loan. Then disguised as custodians on janitorial duty. Then polyjuiced for interviews on the security staff. Each time they entered the bank, the secured a little more information on its internal security procedures, noting the positions of Muggle security cameras, security wizards, and the positioning of magical wards. Before the first week was out they had a full rotation of the guards, their names, their lovers' names, their favorite foods, and their weakness. By the end of the week they had one person who could be coerced with seduction, one person who could be blackmailed, and more security comings and goings than the immediately knew what to do with.

For all their jocularity, the Weasley twins knew their business.

Severus, Lucius, and Albus, on the otherhand, had another task: They needed to convince their tech expert to join them. 

* * *

Hermione was sitting in her local coffee shop in Reykjavik, sipping her miel before heading out into the city for some shopping. She'd worked a long week, project managing the artists for the new expansion of World of Witchcraft, ensuring that the code worked, and trying to finagle the details of the "surprise" component of the game from her boss. Bjӧrn was being uncharacteristically close-lipped on that one.

She started when a hand landed on her shoulder, turning and ripping the earbuds out of her ears at the same time. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw her ex-lover behind her.

"Severus." Her voice was flat.

"Hermione. How are you?" He slid into the chair opposite hers.

"I'm fine, don't sit." He sat. She sighed. "Why are you here?"

He paused, then signaled the barista who was looking for the owner of the brew he'd just finished. "I'm here for a few reasons. I need you."

"You don't need me. You need a keeper," she muttered. "I don't date criminals."

He laughed at that. "Hermione, you _are_ a criminal. You just weren't tried or convicted. They canonized you instead. And I'm not here to ask for a date, love. I'm here because I need _you_. Your brain and your skills."

"For some insane scheme, I assume? Didn't you learn anything from the Occamy eggs, Severus?" she asked, half chiding and half derisive.

"Hm. Yes, I can honestly say I did. Though surely using Occamy silver to find a cure for lycanthropy was a noble cause. You used to be all about the noble causes."

"The war ended. I grew up." She paused. "You should leave."

"I can't do that, Hermione. Not when you're working for a crook."

She snorted. "You would say that, just because I'm not working for you anymore. Bjӧrn is different. He's above board, for one thing."

"But does he make you laugh?"

"He doesn't make me cry."

"Keep thinking that, if it gives you comfort. Before long he will. I assure you that everything you think you know about your employer isn't true. He is putting you right in the middle of his mess and setting you up to take the fall for him. You didn't know about the eggs, Hermione, so they didn't try you along with me. If your employer does what he's planning to do right now, you'll go to jail with him. So you have a choice." Severus leaned in, the pointed an elegant finger toward the far corner of the room. "Come work for me. For us. And save the world again."

"What are you? -" She turned to look in the direction he pointed and spotted Lucius and Dumbledore looking seriously uncomfortable in rather wooly jumpers. She let out a long sigh and sank into her chair. "Fuck."

Severus leaned back and sipped his coffee. "Quite." 

* * *

"So you're telling me that my boss is planning on using me and a dangerous magical object to enchant a digital video game in order to enslave the minds and digital resources of millions of Muggles?"

"That's his plan, yes," Dumbledore confirmed.

"And you three are going to stop him?" she asked incredulously. "Albus, you can't even say the word digital without stumbling."

"We are more than three. With you, we're eleven. And Hagrid would, I suppose, make somewhat of a twelfth. Or a half. Or maybe another three. We're a little unclear on that," Lucius chimed in before ripping off a piece of croissant and placing it in his mouth. It was his third pastry - the bakery really had a knack.

"And what do you need from me?"

"We need you to be our inside woman with Tempest, help derail the work on the game. And we need you to be our technical expert. Because, as you pointed out, some of us can't even say the word 'digital' without mucking it up," Severus answered.

"And that's all. Tech expertise and project management derailment? I can do probably do that with a clear conscience. It's not like I'll be robbing a bank again or anything."

"About that…" Lucius said.


	4. Set-up

"Under no circumstances does this mean we're getting back together."

A terse nod. "Understood."

She looked at him a long moment before whirling and stalking off. The word 'idiot' floated back to him like a balm to his soul.

SSHG

"Good evening gentlemen, ladies," Severus said, walking into the hotel room in Zürich. "We've added a member to our team. I believe all of you know Hermione Granger."

A general cry rose up around the room ad Severus, Lucius, and Albus smirked at one another. Fleur and Minerva rushed the petite witch and embraced her first before the others greeted the long-absent witch in their midst.

"Hermione, as you know, is head developer at Tempest, working directly under Lardrassin. She's been sent ahead to prepare for their presentation at the International Gaming Expo, which leaves her at our disposal -"

"- part time," Hermione chimed in. "It's not like I have a time-turner at my disposal."

Dumbledore cleared his throat delicately and suspended an hourglass on a thin gold chain before him. "About that…"

* * *

"So Miss Granger has returned to us," Minerva said as she stood on the dais in the fitting room. She rubbed an absent hand down her arm, reveling in the smooth texture of the pantsuit that was at that moment being tailored to her body. She'd never had pants before. "How're her nerves?"

Lucius shrugged. "Okay. Not so bad you can see them."

"Hmm. Because I remember her during her school days. The weeks before OWLs and NEWTs were -"

"-memorable, if Draco's reports are to be believed," Lucius responded, raiding the tea tray. They had hazelnut petit fours!

"This is lovely fabric."

"It's imported silk, Min," Lucius said around a mouthful of dessert.

"It's nice. Supple." She took a deep breath and continued fingering the lapel of her suit jacket.

Severus caught the look of trepidation on Minerva's face. "Can you give us a moment, Mr. Janek?" The tailor nodded and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

"Are you sure you're ready for this Minerva? It's not too late to back out."

Cold blue eyes shot to meet his in the mirror. "If you ever ask me that again, Severus, it will be the last thing you ever do."

Severus turned and gave Lucius a wide-eyed look. _She's ready_ he mouthed at his friend before signalling the tailor to return.

Lucius apologized, all graciousness. "We're sorry to keep you late, Gunter. Please extend my apologies to your wife."

The tailor looked perplexed as he set to his task once again. "There is not Mrs. Janek," he muttered around the pins in his mouth. _Strange people, these Brits,_ he thought.

* * *

As Minerva was being fitted for her suit, a nondescript Irishman of medium height was placing traffic cones around one of the pretty, patterned manhole covers in the Swiss financial district. Without any hesitation, Seamus removed a tool from his jacket pocket and popped the lid off the manhole before ducking down into the utilities tunnel as though he belonged there.

* * *

"The fuck, Snape?"

"Yeah, what the actual fuck?"

Severus turned to face Fred and George. "I'm afraid I'll need you to expand those statements in order to formulate an appropriate answer, gentlemen."

"Tell us it's not about her," George said, crossing his arms.

" _What_ 's not about her?"

Fred huffed. "Tell us it's not about her or we walk."

"It's not about her," Severus replied obediently. He paused. "It's not _entirely_ about her."

"So this - taking the Sister Wand -" Fred started.

"- Getting in with the Ministry -" George continued.

"- Stopping the rise of a new Dark Lord -"

"- Saving the Muggles from the evil daggytowel game -"

"- Digital, George."

"- digital! Whatever! It's all about getting Granger back, innit?"

Severus regarded his former students solemnly. "No. It's about fixing our reputations with the Ministry, garnering some international trust, and saving the Muggles from the misuse of a powerful magical object applied to a beloved pastime." He paused again. "It is business, first and foremost. Do I want Hermione back? Yes. Do I expect it to happen? I do not. And I will not jeopardize this plan in an attempt to win her affections again. Clear, gentlemen?"

George nodded decisively. "Crystal, Snape."

"Good. Now don't you have someplace to be?"

"Not 'til 12:30," Fred replied.

"It's 12:15 now," George pointed out.

"No. It's 12:00."

"12:15. Get a watch that works."

* * *

The young blonde behind the front desk of the bank welcomed "Welcome to Credit Suisse. How may I help you today?"

Minerva idly shot a cuff from beneath her sleeve. "My name is Contra Riete. I am here to discuss a private business matter with Mme Perspicace."

"Is she expecting you, Madam?"

"She is not."

"Then I'm afraid I need you to make an appointment," the receptionist stated politely.

Minerva raised a single eyebrow and stared at her opponent. "I do not make appointments," she said with a sneer that would make Severus proud. "Please tell Mme. Perspicace that it pertains to Inositolic Inc. and its upcoming merger with Santé Naturel. I will wait." She managed to fix a look on her face that was simultaneously pleasant and menacing.

"I - but madam, you can't -"

"Make the call."

* * *

"So what do you want me to do?"

Lucius frowned at the Weasley before him. "You're going to follow Lardrassin. Learn to love his shadow. We need to know his routine, who follows him, and what his personal wards are if we're going to use him to get into the vault."

"All I get to do is tail him?" Bill winced a bit at the whinging tone in his voice.

"You have to fly before you can run," Lucius responded absentmindedly

"Reverse that," Albus said from the next room.

* * *

"So you're here for a loan?"

Minerva arched an eyebrow at the young man sitting next to her. She did not respond; she simply recrossed her legs and adjusted the knife-edge pleat on her leg to follow the line of her shin.

"Because let me tell you, Perspicace there drives a hard bargain. You don't want to let her hooks into you too deep. You'll never find your way out again." The young man leaned forward, eager. As if waiting for her to thank him for his unsolicited advice. How disappointing.

"I don't believe I asked for your opinion and my business is my own. Kindly mind yours," Minerva replied tersely.

She could see that a woman is talking in Perspicace's ear, relaying Minerva's demand for an audience. Larissa Perspicace - 44, Muggle, head of new client acquisition and retention, married to the head of Magical security, and the mother to two teenaged half-blood witches. A sharp tack, by all reports, and not on easy to fool.

Then again, Minerva is hardly new to the game.

"Madam Riete?" Perspicace strides forward, hand extended.

"Yes. Good of you to see me, Madam Perspicace. We have, I believe, business to discuss." Minerva shot a quick glance at the over-enthused idiot that she'd been forced to share a waiting area with for the past ten minutes. "Private business," she amended.

"Of course, if you'll just come this way, we can speak in my office."

* * *

Dean was bored. He was ticking off the minutes until break time - when his real work would start - by working through the arithmantic predictions for Muggle stocks on the New York Stock Exchange...which would open in another three hours. Frozen Concentrated Orange Juice futures looked up for the year, but it was anyone's guess how that particular stock would perform in any given year. One bad winter and whoosh, profits down the crapper. He sighed.

It wasn't long before Dean's supervisor strolled past his desk, a drab thing fixed to the wall of a Dijonaise colored cube. "Ah, Guillermo! How are you today?"

"I'm well, Dietrich. Just working on these FCOJ assessments."

"Ach. That one's a bitch, ja?"

Dean nodded morosely.

The portly older gentleman checked his pocketwatch. "You've been at it since eight. Go to the breakroom and have a coffee. Or tea. Whichever. You have an extra fifteen minutes today."

Dean was up like a shot. "Thank you, sir!"

"My pleasure, my pleasure." The man bore an uncomfortable resemblance to a Swiss Slughorn. "Off you go now."

Dean made his escape to the breakroom, dutifully made himself a cuppa, and settled in with a crossword puzzle as second-shift workers started to trickle into the room. Dean shifted his body slightly to listen in on the conversations around him, paying particular attention to two of the network maintenance crew. He would've cast a subtle eavesdropping charm, but the bank had a strict no-magic policy in the mixed areas. There were wards set up that would stymie even the simplest spells, so good-old snooping was the only way to get the job done.

What he would give to be able to use an extendable ear, though.

It was, however, Dean's lucky day. It looked as though the engineers were both horny and talkative. Two things that always seem to lead the way to indirect manipulation.

He wrote "Red Lips" and "Charise" into the squares of his crossword. They didn't fit.

Perfect.

* * *

"Well," Hermione said, "it's not the most inaccessible system I've ever seen. It's close, though. Definitely a black bag job. Do they employ in-house engineers?"

Severus nodded. "Several. And one of them's lonely."

* * *

"Lucius!" The redhead in a scrap of clothing that might have borne some resemblance to a nurse's uniform - but for the decidedly non-regulation g-string and bedazzled push-up bra - ran forward and gave the blonde man a hug. It was a toss-up whether Lucius' popsicle would mar the pristine white fabric, but he managed to chuck it aside just in time.

"Charise. How are you, love?"

"I'm doing well." She dangled a passcard in front of him. "This is what you wanted, right?"

He smirked and passed her a roll of bills. "Yep."

Unashamed, she flicked through the stack. "This is only half."

"Did you get the other thing?"

Charise - a phlebotomy student whose real name was Charlotte - pouted before producing an empty snüz tin with a few hairs in it. "Don't know why you want these anyway. Paternity test?"

"Something like that," he muttered, handing over the other half of the money. "Thank you love. Say hi to your mum for me?"

"Say hi yourself," she said with a titter. "She's on in twenty minutes."

There were really no words for the look on Lucius' face in that moment.

* * *

Hermione - polyjuiced as Mirco Schmid, junior network engineer -registered on the bank's logbooks at 9:54 PM that evening, well into the third shift, but too early to catch people on their coffee break. It was the work of a few moments to slip into the server room, pull a few wires, and locate the feeds for the internal video monitoring, the primary trunk line, and network status. A few well-placed bugs of her own design, a check on her tablet, and she was out the door.

Lucius and Severus watched as she walked down the hallways of the bank's IT sector. "Her arse looks good in those coveralls," Lucius mentioned.

"May I remind you that the arse you are so admiring belongs to Mirco Schmid, not Hermione Granger."

Lucius shrugged. "Either way." He crunched on a nacho.

"Why do you think they always paint hallways that color?"

"They say taupe is very soothing."

" _They_ are clearly idiots."

Lucius shrugged again.

* * *

"Madam Riete, you have a request to make of Credit Suisse?"

"I do. I am supervising the merger of two pharmaceutical companies - Inositolic and Santé Naturel. We have recently had some...security issues. You have heard of us?"

"I have, though not of your misfortunes," Larissa Perspicace replied cautiously.

Minerva nodded with a satisfied air. "Good. We have worked very hard to keep it that way. Needless to say, we are looking to make some new arrangements for some of our more proprietary formulae. I understand you can help with that."

Larissa brightened immediately. A new client! She might make her monthly quota yet! "Of course, Madam Riete. We have safe deposit boxes available in our -"

"- I will stop you there. Safe deposit boxes are for aged brandy and grandmothers' pearls. I need something more than the box." She leaned forward. "What _else_ can you offer me?"

"Well, there are the vaults, but they're not at all modern. I'm sure you would prefer -"

"Yes. The vaults. High security, I presume?"

"The highest. But they're only available to clients who have been through the most rigorous vetting -"

"-and you do not feel that I would pass this vetting process, Madam?" Minerva sneered.

"Frankly, no. It's a very _special_ type of vetting. It requires...binding oaths."

"Hm." Minerva glanced at the camera in the ceiling and turned her body away from it slightly, sliding the tip of her wand from beneath her sleeve to show the manager. "I believe such oaths would not be a problem."

Larissa Perspicace's eyes widened. "Let me get the paperwork."

As soon as the younger woman had left the room, Minerva shifted in her chair again. Her hand dropped to her side and she quickly slid the small microphone bug that she'd palmed under the seat of her chair and affixed it to the bottom.

* * *

"Bill, what have you seen of Lardrassin?"

The eldest Weasley son appeared somewhat sleep-deprived, but otherwise hale and hearty, if somewhat distracted by the sight of Fleur Delacour going through her limbering routine on the balcony of their hotel suite. Admirably, he managed to keep his eyes mostly on Lucius and Severus while he made his report. "I'd say Lardrassin is a machine, but it would be a lie. The man is a boor. He eats like a horde of Ronalds, sleeps with anything that moves, harasses his employees, and keeps no schedule that I can follow. He has a number of weaknesses that we could exploit, but our best bet for the time that he's here is simply to send ample booze, food, and women to his room in the hopes that he never leaves. I've seen no evidence to say that this approach wouldn't work."

Lucius sent a look toward Severus and shrugged. "Inelegant, but effective."

Severus sighed. Bill had at last lost the battle with his libido and was openly staring at Fleur as she curled into a backbend.

"Take the day, Bill. I'm sure you could use some R&R after a week following Lardrassin. He arrives on the 8:00 PM flight tomorrow, yes?"

"Mmm?" Bill said, still peering through the glass door. "Um, yea. 8:00 PM."

Severus snapped in Bill's face, bringing his attention back to the two gentlemen in the room. "Then you're back on Lardrassin duty at 8:00 PM tomorrow. Now go chat the girl up before your eyes fall out, you berk."


End file.
